


Broken Steel

by That_One_Mountain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Mountain/pseuds/That_One_Mountain
Summary: After over six years of being gone from the pack Fenrir Greyback has every intention to live the rest of his days quietly in the den. He's already been gone for too long, and just look at the messes his sister's children got into without him around to keep them in line. Those intentions are blown out of the water when he comes back to find a war brewing in the horizon and what's left of his family caught in the middle of it. He won't leave them again. Not even for a pretty Psy with a pair of the brightest green eyes and the most enticing of scents. A pretty Psy who he shouldn't find so damn pretty...Harry Potter already has enough on his plate with being glorified lab rat and lie detector for the council, keeping his nonexistent Silence from being discovered, and raising two boys he loves more than any Psy should be capable of. The last thing he needs to deal with is a cold war with changelings where his particular skill set is going to be in high demand. But Harry is still a Psy, albeit a broken one, and he knows how to take advantage of a situation for his own ends. If only a particular changeling would stop trying to elicit responses from him that could get him killed, or worse...
Relationships: Ashaya Aleine/Dorian Christensen, Brenna Kincaid/Judd Lauren, Fenrir Greyback/Harry Potter, Riley Kincaid/Mercy Smith, Sascha Duncan/Lucas Hunter, Sienna Lauren/Hawke Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on this site and I'm posting it for a fandom deserving of way more works than it has. ( I'll let you guess which one) I'll add tags, characters and relationships as I go along as well as any warnings. any Kudos or comments would be majorly appreciated!

In the year 1979 the Psy race made the choice to implement the silence protocol, a decision which would divide their race as well as the rest of the world. The members of the Psy council looked out into the Psynet, at all of the billions of lives under their protection, and chose life.

It would be a twisted half life, but it was better than death. It was better than madness. Surely they had no choice. Surely it would be better for their children to be made of cold metal than breakable glass. 

Glass breaks, but metal bends.

They couldn't have known at the time what that choice would bring. That slowly they would be replaced by councilors who saw the lives in the net as servants instead of subjects. People to be whipped into obedience instead of protected.

Now, in the year 2081, the metallic Psy are beginning to warp under the pressure of silence. 

Some are being reforged into something even stronger than steel and abandoning the silence that would have bent them into something unrecognisable.Some are breaking. 

And broken metal cuts deep. Deep enough to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's our introduction to Fenrir. Comments and kudos are appreciated

Fenrir stopped in the hallway outside of Bren’s door. There was a distinct smell coming from the crack under the door. Judd was home. Fenrir allowed his face to twist into a shallow scowl as he drew closer. He pounded the side of his fist into the door and waited for someone to respond.  
It wasn’t that he didn’t like his niece’s mate, he did. He would just never admit it. He was supposed to be the shotgun uncle that threatened to skin Judd alive if he made Bren cry. He couldn’t let on that the Psy’s poker face cracked him up or that he shared Judd's sense of humor. He played the role diligently, but deep down he felt he didn’t have the right to.  
Fenrir had always thought of Bren as more of his younger sister than his niece. He was closer in age to Riley than to Riley’s mother, his actual sister. He was born only five years before his oldest nephew.  
He was something of a shock to his parents, as most changelings didn’t conceive that late into their lives. Fenrir used to tease Adria that they were twins in that way. Before.  
Fenrir had only been a juvenile when tragedy struck SnowDancer. His loner status had made itself known even before puberty, and it was all he could do to stay anywhere close to the den as a child. His sister had never tried to confine him, always saying that Fenrir was more cat than wolf in his need for solitude.  
Then she was gone and Fenrir was chained to the den by her memory. He couldn’t just leave his sister’s children alone. Sure, they would have the pack, but Fenrir was their only blood left. So he pushed down the need to roam, wrapped a muzzle around his wolf and contented himself to being a soldier. Riley did so much when it came to raising Bren and Drew, but he was still young. He still needed help. They had worked together to raise them as best they could.  
Even after Bren left for college Fenrir lingered in the den. Finally Riley pulled him aside quietly during a mating ceremony for a pack mate. He said only one word.  
“Go.”  
Fenrir had stared at his sister’s oldest son and wondered where the years had gone. Riley wasn’t a kid holding his family together by a thread anymore. He was a lieutenant. He was an adult. They all were. And they didn’t need him hovering around them.  
He left the next day. After years of keeping his wolf under control, it felt freeing to let go. He let the wolf take over and roamed for the first time since he was a juvenile. He left in 2074 and was gone for six years.  
He had missed so much in that time.  
The door in front of him was pulled open. Fenrir blinked back into the present and came face to face with Judd. His wolf snapped playfully at the man’s scent. He purposely deepened the scowl marring his face and let his eyes go wolf blue. After six years spent mostly in wolf form Fenrir excelled at making himself seem feral to non-changelings. Judd couldn’t scent the wolf’s playfulness, had no way of knowing if he was seconds from blood other than the reactions of the wolves around him.  
But no one was around them now.  
Even so, Judd barely reacted. He stepped aside to allow Fenrir in, careful to keep the wolf in his line of sight.  
“Lauren.” Fenrir’s voice still had a raspy quality that came from not speaking for over half a decade. He doubted it would ever fade.  
“Fenrir,” Judd greeted, “Bren’s still showering. You’re early.” To the untrained ear, Judd may have sounded blank and emotionless, but Fenrir detected a hint of amusement. He had probably realized after a few months that the hostility Fenrir had shown him was just that. A show.  
-  
Judd’s eyes followed Fenrir as the wolf stalked across the room to lounge across some of the furniture in the living space. It was instinctual to keep Fenrir in his line of sight and some deeply buried instincts screamed when Judd turned his back in order to close the door.  
Fenrir was one of the most wild SnowDancers Jud had ever met. Every movement was a touch too graceful, every expression a touch too feral. Next to him, even Hawke looked like the pinnacle of civilization.  
For the longest time Judd was convinced Fenrir was one run-in from biting his head off. It didn’t scare him, Judd knew he could take the other man in a fight if he needed to. He had watched Riley and Fenrir spar from the doorway of the gym more than once.  
Fenrir was admittedly good, but he was rusty. After six years spent roaming the country as a wolf it was expected. Even so, having a large changeling snapping their teeth in his direction every time they saw each other was unnerving.  
Over a year after their mating, Judd had finally stopped expecting Brenna’s brothers to snarl at him for daring to touch their baby sister. Judd had been marginally aware that Brenna’s uncle still lived, but had never expected to meet the man. No one ever really spoke about him. Not in the way people avoid talking about a dead relative, more so the way people don’t mention distant relatives that they never see.  
Then Fenrir arrived. He had simply burst through their door one morning, still naked from the shift. Judd would have attacked with his Tk, but Brenna let out a joyful shriek and threw herself at the stranger. He stood almost half a head taller than Riley, yet he held the squirming woman in his arms more gently than Judd would have thought him capable.  
Everything moved so fast after that.  
Fenrir didn’t let go of Brenna for hours. Riley, Drew, and Hawke also spent most of that time touching him. He was so clearly disoriented that they needed to ground him back into his human form before anything could be done. Every time he so much as caught a whiff of Judd, Fenrir went even more feral, growling and snapping his jaws in warning. After a while he calmed down enough to get dressed and eat something.  
Fenrir settled into the soldier’s quarters within the day, though he spent most of his free time at Brenna’s rooms or in common areas. He fell easily into the role of a trainer for the juveniles, though there was some concern he would abandon the post to roam when the mood struck him.  
However, it seemed that other than the occasional day trip to the mountains, the six years of freedom had abated the urge to roam almost completely.  
Judd had heard that before he left Fenrir had been a solid mix of Drew and Riley personality wise. He was supposedly still like that. Judd never saw much of either of the men in their uncle. That could have been because Fenrir only seemed to have one personality trait around Judd.  
Barely restrained aggression.  
He growled at Judd almost every time they were in the same room. He flashed a wolf blue glare every time they made eye contact. Fenrir seemed to go out of his way to find Judd just to scowl and glare.  
Judd wouldn’t say it hurt, but it would be a problem going forward. Especially since Brenna seemed so close to him now that he had returned. Judd never wanted to be the point of contention between them. If they fought, it would break Brenna’s heart to have to make a choice. Judd had brought this up to her a week ago when the family dinner was brought up. Brenna had laughed after he finished explaining  
“Oh baby,” Her eyes sparkled with mirth when she finished rolling around, “That’s never going to be a problem.” He furrowed his brows at her. They both lay in bed after sex, just basking in each other’s presence.  
“You don’t know that, you haven’t seen him in so long.” He was on his back with her cradled to his chest. Brenna was propped up on her elbows and her fingers traced shapes on his chest.  
“Yes I do.” she said simply, a warmly smug smile pulling the corners of her lips. He quirked a brow and returned the grin with a smile of his own.  
“How?”  
“You aren’t a wolf Judd. You don’t pick up on some social cues because of changelings’ advanced senses. When Fenrir growls at you, when he glares at you, he doesn’t smell angry. He smells playful.” She looked up from where her hands lay on his chest and met his gaze. “He’s teasing you.”  
“Oh.”  
Judd didn’t know what to do with that information then and he still didn’t. In the present, Fenrir stretched out on a couch that faced the kitchen. He took up all of the space on that piece of furniture, forcing Judd and anyone else who arrived to sit elsewhere. Judd wanted to laugh at that piece of wolf cunning.  
That was the best seat to observe the entirety of the rest of the apartment. The predator’s instincts always chafed at having anyone behind them in a position they couldn’t see. Fenrir, having spent so long in wolf form, likely felt this more strongly than most. It made sense that he would arrive so early, if only to appease his wolf.  
Brenna stepped out of their room at that moment, her hair still dripping from the shower.   
“Fenrir.” She smiled sweetly at him and walked over, giving him a kiss on the cheek before going to sit next to Judd. Fenrir’s answering grin was full of teeth.  
“Bren sweetheart it's been way too long. How’s the Psy treating you?” His toothy smile twisted into something just this side of feral at the question. His eyes were no longer on Brenna, but boring holes into Judd. Now that he knew to look for it, it was easy for Judd to see the barely restrained laughter buried in Fenrir’s gaze. Brenna rolled her eyes at her uncle’s antics.  
“Judd has been just as good to me today as he was when you asked yesterday.” Brenna drawled. Fenrir pulled his eyes back to her. There was a softer fondness in them now.  
“I had to ask. Now that Riley’s got himself a mate and Drew’s busy running around the pack, someone has to keep him on his toes. Wouldn’t do to let him slip.” Fenrir seemed to take great delight in talking about Judd as if he wasn’t sitting there listening. Judd didn’t comment on it and chose to stay quiet as Brenna and Fenrir devolved into mindless chatter while they waited for the otters to arrive.  
Judd knew on some level that he technically held a higher position in the den than Fenrir. He was a sentinel while the other man was an instructor. Judd could assert his dominance, could force Fenrir to treat him with the respect he deserved both publicly and privately. The thought of it put a bad taste in his mouth. He had a feeling that if he was the kind of person who would do that to anyone he never would have gotten a position where he was able to.  
Not in SnowDancer.  
-  
Later that night, after everyone had arrived and the food had been eaten, the extended Kincaid family sat in Bren’s living room talking. The lieutenants and sentinel had gotten into a conversation about border security of all things.  
It had apparently gotten quite heated and even Drew had been dragged into it, though for the life of him Fenrir couldn’t tell who was on who’s side. He had been a soldier once and probably could have been again, but it no longer interested him. He was a teacher now for the younger juveniles. His group was made up of mostly submissives and maternals, though there were a few dominants on the lower end of the spectrum thrown in. Generally people who would never be soldiers. He taught them self defence against a larger and, more importantly, more dominant attacker.  
It was something he had brought up to Hawke after less than a month of being in the den.  
“All the training in the world won’t help them if they can't even look at the person they're fighting you know.” Hake had blinked at him after he materialized next to the alpha while he was watching some of the juveniles train. “Some of them can barely stand being around Adria, and though I love her she’s by no means the most dominant person in the den. Hell she’s not even the most dominant person in the room right now.” Hawke had stared at him for a good long while, before a shit-eating grin split his face.  
“Well, if you’re offering…”  
That was how Fenrir got saddled with teaching the least dominant members of the pack how to directly disobey someone more dominant than them. It was an important skill they might need in a life or death situation, but half the time Fenrir was sure Hake had only assigned him to it as revenge for being gone for six years.  
He got bored watching the by-play between the soldiers and drifted back to the kitchen where Bren was washing the dishes. He used his larger mass to bump her hip enough that there was space for him to stick his own hands into the sudsy water. She rolled her eyes at him but passed him a plate without comment.   
“Your mate left you here to do this by yourself? What the fuck is his Tk for?” He asked conversationally, aware of a pair of dark eyes that flashed in his direction from the living room. The conversation didn’t change but Fenrir still shot Bren a megawatt smile when she elbowed him.  
“Shut up. Judd did all the cooking, so I’m cleaning up. It's called compromise in case you need to look it up.” Fenrir’s brows shot up in mock surprise  
“Wow, I didn’t know the ice man knew what seasoning was. My compliments to his instructor. And his instructor’s teacher.” He couldn’t stop the laugh that overtook him at the face Bren shot him for that remark. Considering he had taught her to cook it was almost a sure guess she had in turn taught her mate.  
“God you're a narcissist.” Bren laughed. He hummed and they returned to washing the dishes in a comfortable near silence. Once all of the plates were dried and put away she stopped him from rejoining the others with a hand on his arm. “Fenrir.” She spoke softly so as to not be heard by the other changelings. He peered down and noticed the pensive look on her face.   
“What is it?” He also lowered his voice since it seemed she wanted to talk with some semblance of privacy.   
“Are you…are you doing alright?” Her words were almost inaudible and the surprise on his face was real this time.  
“What.” It didn’t even come out as a question.  
“Well I know that it must be strange for you, coming back after all this time and everything being so different. I just wanted to make sure you weren't getting whiplash or-”  
“Bren.” He cut in before she could work herself up into a rant. Her eyes peeked up at him and it almost took the breath from his lungs. They were so different now than they had been before. There was a jagged shard of arctic blue in each one where there had only been brown. Like his sister.  
He didn’t want this, didn't want his feet to be cut out from under him every time she looked at him. Didn’t want his sisters eyes that weren’t hers to remind him every time he looked at them that he had failed.  
“Bren,” He said again, even softer than the first time, “being here isn’t a problem and it's not going to be. Time passed for me too, and I changed. The only problem I will ever have is that I wasn’t here for you when you needed me. But,” He raised a hand when she looked like she wanted to interrupt, “I will get over it. I am doing fine.”  
Maybe if he said it enough it would start being the truth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now Harry enters the mix!

Harry dragged in deep lungfuls of air as his knees buckled beneath him. He swallowed against the bile that rose in the back of his throat. The only other person in the room, some kind of bird changeling he noted distantly, jumped away from him as he fell. 

The changeling had only touched his hand as he was instructed to for the experiment but it was more than enough. Images and words and _voices_ flooded into Harry's mind through the bond that had snapped into being upon the first contact. 

A woman smiling, children laughing, screams, and blood. So much blood. 

_Harry felt it caked under his fingernails and streaked onto his bare arms. There were whimpers coming from somewhere on his right. He didn't look away from his own skin as he kicked out with his right foot. The soft noises turned into a choked off gurgling as his foot connected with something warm and soft. So noisy. Psy should never be so noisy. Harry felt a grin splitting his features into some bastardization of glee. He could always shut her up. The red was so pretty. She deserved to be pretty. He could make her pretty-_

Harry’s eyes snapped open as his mind returned to him. More bile threatened to come up as he lay on the floor gasping. His skin felt too tight like it was stretched over the wrong skeleton. For a disorienting moment, Harry could see the room through two pairs of eyes before his mind severed the link to the other man. 

The changeling stood looking down at him from a few feet away. The man, he thought they had called him Barty, had a thin body and a gaunt face. He looked nothing like most changelings, he was deceptively fragile looking. His eyes were pale and had a strange light in them that made him seem manic even when his face was blank. His tongue darted out in a strange tick as he stood there, his eyes never leaving Harry.

Harry felt the soft touch of a telepathic probe and responded almost without thinking.

_Yes?_ His voice sounded much more stable in his mind than it would have if he had spoken aloud. If he had tried responding out loud he may have simply started screaming. It was only years of practice that kept even the slightest tremble from his mental voice.

_Have you made your assessment?_ The voice of the man who headed the experiment asked crisply, notably no comment was made on Harry’s reaction to the vision. Dr. Thomas Riddle had been the first person to recognize the potential uses of Harry’s little curse. He was a Cardinal Telepath who worked as a researcher for Council laboratories for years. His main field of study was the differences in shielding ability within different gradients. The work he had done had been useful enough to the council to be given leeway for his own personal project. His own personal pet.

_The distortion of the memories would imply they were planted or altered if not for his changeling nature. This is also corroborated by the fact that all memories appear to be distorted. This could be caused by psychosis or other underlying factors._ Harry replied monotonously as if he was reading from a particularly boring script. He knew it wasn’t what Riddle wanted.

_Did he kill her?_ Riddle pressed. Harry didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to think about the images he was forced to see. However, there would be no logical reason not to. Someone truly Silent wouldn’t care, wouldn’t feel enough to care.

_All evidence present would indicate that he was the one responsible for her death._

_Good._ The praise was toneless. _We will debrief you later. For now, you have some scheduled time with James, afterward, you will be sent to assist with the Arrows._ The telepathic connection cut off at the same time that a door opened into the room. Two Psy guards walked in to collect the changeling along with an assistant for Harry. Harry pushed himself to his feet, not wanting to give them a reason to touch him. The assistant held out Harry’s coat and Harry pulled it to himself to hide the slight tremors in his hands.

Outside the door was a frenzy of activity, as much as psy could frenzy. At least five different scientists were bustling around the corridor. Not all of them worked under Riddle, in fact, most of them didn’t. There were only one or two viewing rooms and a lab partitioned off for this particular endeavor by Riddle, something Harry assumed would prick at his pride if he had any emotions. The rest of the building was divided into minor researchers doing minor projects. 

Dr. Riddle stood at the end of the hallway waiting with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. His posture was somehow both casual and stiff, his night sky eyes distant in a way that indicated he was speaking to someone. His eyes refocused as Harry and the assistant drew closer. He nodded to the man escorting Harry and then the two of them were alone. 

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Harry studied the man in front of him. Riddle was a tall man, pale in a way most psy weren’t. He was dressed in the common Psy uniform of dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, though instead of a blazer he donned a labcoat. He had dark hair with the slightest wave to it that gave the vague impression of lazy mornings spent in bed. That image was ludicrously inaccurate as in all of the years Harry had known Riddle he had never known him to rise any later than dawn. His whole image was designed that way. He walked the line between professionalism and a charming softness that belied the monster lurking behind his eyes.

“Shall we.” The words would have been a question if it wasn’t for the complete lack of expression in Riddle’s voice. Harry nodded, his eyes not quite meeting Riddle’s, far too worried about what may be seen in his own cardinal eyes. 

They started down a new hallway side by side. Harry maintained a careful distance as they walked. He didn’t want to touch Riddle, didn’t really want to get too close. There was no telling how much contact he needed in order to be dragged into another mind, it fluctuated wildly at times depending on his mental state and at the moment he felt completely unstable.

“How is James advancing in his conditioning?” Riddle’s question broke through a silence that may have been awkward if they were human or changeling. The fact that Harry’s conditioning was fractured to the point that he was detecting emotions where there were none was slightly terrifying.

“He is completing the program at a pace within the expected range for a child of his designation,” Harry repeated the phrase he had used to describe his son every time he was asked. It said everything and nothing at all at the same time. The two of them were the only recorded cases of their sub-designation, there was no expected range, no known number of acceptable abnormalities that they could have. Considering how Harry’s conditioning was holding it gave him little hope his son would fare any better.

“And Theodore?” Riddle asked almost softly. Harry nearly stopped walking, only barely managing to hide shock that would have had him rehabilitated if it had shown. Asking about James made sense, he would be a part of Riddle’s experiments in the future (A fact that made Harry want to scream and hide him away), he was an investment. Teddy was nothing but a failure by most Psy metrics. Yes, he was a cardinal, but a flawed one without power. _Sascha Duncan had been thought flawed once._

“He’s doing as well as can be expected. His tutors are still looking into bypassing the block on his abilities that keep him unspecialized.” Tom simply looked at him for a moment and Harry almost wished he could know what the man was thinking.

“Perhaps he will show some promise with mental shields. Many unspecialized Psy do. Should that be the case I trust you will notify me.” Harry nodded once at Riddle’s words. Riddle wasn’t the worst of the monsters out there. Still, the thought of him paying any kind of attention to Teddy was frightening. 

“What work will I be doing with the Arrows today?” Harry switched topics as soon as he could without seeming suspicious. He didn’t think he could keep his voice even if Riddle continued trying to press him for information on Teddy.

“Likely the same as usual, you would know better than I would.” Something almost like distaste crossed Riddle’s face. Riddle wasn’t told anything about what Harry did for the Arrows. If there was one thing the doctor couldn’t stand it was being uninformed on his little pet’s every move. 

They continued walking in silence. At the end of the hallway, there was an elevator that would lead back to the reception areas. Back to the real world. 

The space between them and the doors seemed to stretch on forever, and for one brief moment, Harry thought of a dream where no matter how hard he ran he would never reach freedom. But this wasn’t a dream and before long they stood before the doors.

Tom reached out and pushed the button to call the elevator down. Tom removed the lab coat and folded it over his arm. They waited quietly for the elevator, Harry started counting spots on the wall in order to avoid looking over at Tom. He could feel Tom’s gaze on his skin and it reminded him of the gaze of a shark. The cold, dark eyes stayed on him as the doors opened with a soft ding and he stepped forward. 

Then they were alone in the small box of the elevator. Tom’s gaze turned oppressive and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore it. Harry felt the urge to fiddle with the sleeves of his own shirt or smooth his tie, though he suppressed the actions.

“Is there something on my face Doctor?” Harry all but snapped after another few moments. He winced internally almost immediately. _Well so much for keeping a lid on it._ He really shouldn’t have reacted to something so small. It wasn’t as though the doctor hadn't done worse to get a reaction out of him. It was just that recently Harry’s nerves felt flayed open and bare to the world. He was starting to slowly crumble and the facade of silence was as well.

“No,” Riddle said simply, one of the cold Psy smiles fixed perfectly on his face. It seemed he wanted Harry to drag the answers out of him.

“I was just wondering,” He continued, “if I had mentioned that my operations are being moved out of London.” Harry very nearly did a double-take. They were being moved? He knew that by operations Riddle meant Harry and James. He was under no illusions of his place as an asset of Riddle’s and had no doubts the man would take them by force if necessary. He wondered what that would mean for Teddy. He wasn’t involved in Riddle’s plans, but Harry wouldn’t leave him behind.

“Do you know where we will be stationed?” He asked distantly, however his mind was running at a mile a minute with plans and different questions. Questions he wasn’t foolish enough to ask.

“San Francisco I believe. We will be moved to labs outside of the city, it seems the council will have work for us to do there.”

“Is that safe? My understanding is that the area is under changeling control. The council hasn’t been able to gain a foothold there.” Harry remembered the news filtering out of the area for the past few years. Desertions and rebellions and _victories_ that gave him more hope for his future and that of his sons than any council announcement ever could. He could never show it on the surface but he had been dying for an excuse to go there. The changelings had helped Psy like him in the past, maybe they could help him.

“I believe that is what we will be sent for.” The elevator finally reached their destination but Tom reached out, quick as lightning, and held the button to keep the doors shut. “Your’s and James’ most recent results with changelings have apparently gained some attention in council circles.”

Harry felt ice slide down his spine.

“Really?” He asked numbly, “I wasn’t aware that the ability to access Changeling memories would be so useful.” Tom was seemingly inching closer and Harry shrunk back towards the wall in response. He pulled his eyes away from the other man and reached into the pocket of his coat and busied himself with pulling a pair of soft leather gloves.

Most Ps Psy wore gloves in public and Harry was at least tangentially a member of that designation overall.

“They are interested in my theory that your ability to easily control the human minds you enter could be applied to changelings with practice. If true we must begin with training James alongside you immediately. Besides,” Tom pressed even closer and Harry held his breath, “even should that not be the case, being able to access their memories will provide an invaluable advantage.” Tom finally backed away and pushed a different button to open the doors. Harry only started breathing again once they were both outside.

“Even if the council believes I could be useful, you know that I have the least control over changeling minds and what I see inside of them. They are far too fundamentally different even from humans to navigate easily,” Harry continued as they made their way out of the building and toward the parking lot. There was a dark car that would take them to Harry’s home, then would drop Tom off somewhere.

“That is why we will only be practicing for the first few months. Once you and James have shown the ability to sift through those savages we will begin deploying you on actual missions.” Tom held open the door and ushered Harry inside before sliding into the seat opposite Harry and motioning the driver to move. Harry’s brows twitched though he smoothed his features by the time Tom turned to him.

“ _Missions_? It sounds almost as though we are being sent to war.” Harry commented. Tom continued to look at him steadily while Harry tried to digest that realization. “We are aren’t we?”

“The council has not declared war on the changelings,” Tom stated as if it should have been obvious. Harry’s hand clenched into a fist in his lap and he was almost grateful for the staring match between them, if only because Tom wouldn’t notice and ask questions. 

“Not officially. Not yet.” Harry wanted to let out a sigh and broke their gaze to look out the window, “That’s the reason we are being sent, isn’t it? Either to prevent war by taking out the threat or to give the council an advantage.”

“Possibly.” 

Harry’s hands started to shake for an entirely different reason. He saw red for a moment and had to clench his jaw tightly to keep from screaming and launching himself across the seat. He knew it was breaching silence, he knew he should try to reign himself in but he almost didn’t care.

“You intend to send me and my entire bloodline into a war zone. My sons are three and five respectively. Should something go wrong, as if often does when the council tries anything in that area, they have little to no chance of defending themselves. My entire genetic legacy could be wiped out.” That wasn’t the problem, Harry honestly couldn’t give a fuck about his _genetic legacy_. Those were his sons and he refused to put them in danger for the council. 

“Every measure of safety-”

“Besides that,” He continued, and oh it felt good to cut him off for once, “James’ mind is still young and impressionable. You have no idea what constant interaction with changeling minds will do to his development. You don’t even know the risks and you intend to-”

“Harry,” Tom spoke softly, but his tone froze Harry and his eyes jerked towards Tom, “This is not a request. You are being sent to San Fransisco. The only questions are whether it will be willingly and Theodor’s position once there.”

Harry’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He realized the car had come to a stop, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tom. The man’s cardinal eyes had gone completely black and he realized, almost belatedly, that Tom was stopping him from moving. It was his specialty, the ability to telepathically control the movements of one’s body.

“What about Theodore?” Harry asked in a whisper.

“We both know what he is. I wonder what it would do to him if he was convinced that he had been abandoned by his father and sent to live out his life surrounded by psychopaths. We’ve been told that _unspecialized_ Psy are repulsed by them. And for one so young? It would drive him to insanity before the year was out. It would be an interesting experiment to see how long he would hold onto his mind.”

Harry could only stare, horrified. Tom had never threatened Harry, not like this. He had never needed to. He had never demanded anything unreasonable by Psy standards. There was never a reason to refuse him, not one that could be justified. Harry was always too afraid of rehabilitation to argue. But now that Tom, and by extension the council, had found out about his flawed silence they had something even worse to dangle over his head.

Tom let his words linger in the air before releasing his hold on Harry. His eyes, now back to normal, flicked over to the building they had stopped in front of. He reached over and opened the door for Harry.

“Think about it. You can give me your answer later.” Harry climbed out of the car mechanically and realized that it had begun to rain. 

He stood there, staring up into the grey sky, and noticed that there were tears streaming down his face that were hidden by the rain. The door to the car clicked shut behind him.

“Oh and Harry?” Tom called out from where he had rolled the window down. Harry turned back to the car, feeling almost completely numb.

“Don’t try to run, you won’t get very far.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


End file.
